Dress Sense
by Fansquee
Summary: Donna glared at him nonetheless and pointed a finger at him. “Oi, watch it spaceman. I’ll have you know I don’t want to end up looking like one of those dolls that sit on the spare roll of toilet paper.”


Title: Dress Sense

Author: Fansquee

Disclaimer: I own nothing… only the idea for the fic. The BBC own the rest.

Rating: PG

Characters/Pairings: Doctor/Donna friendship… tiny bit of romance if you take a pick-axe to it.

Warnings: None

Summary: Donna glared at him nonetheless and pointed a finger at him. "Oi, watch it spaceman. I'll have you know I don't want to end up looking like one of those dolls that sit on the spare roll of toilet paper."

Notes: Edited by the lovely xfirefly9x – she's listened to me whine and moan for the past few weeks about this fic, all credit goes to her. Also, be kind, it's my first Doctor Who fic… sorry if the characters are slightly OOC.

"Donna Noble, you look wonderful!" The Doctor announced as the said companion waltzed into the consol room. She twirled around to show how the dress fitted and beaming down at him in triumph of her twirl that didn't end up with her on the ground.

"Do you reckon?" she said, a little of her self-consciousness showing in the way she fluttered the light material about which reflected the consoles eerie green glow. "I don't know… don't think lace is really me…"

"I wouldn't lie, not with your fast slap and mouth." He replied slowly, his smile telling her he wasn't at all serious.

Donna glared at him nonetheless and pointed a finger at him. "Oi, watch it spaceman. I'll have you know I don't want to end up looking like one of those dolls that sit on the spare roll of toilet paper."

The Doctor blinked, thrown off where she was going with this certain rant this particular time.

"I'm not objective to lace. A little looks nice, but, too much and you're a walking doily, then everybody is sniggering behind your back, but won't tell you why."

"Right… if you didn't like the dress you could always change it."

Donna huffed at him. "Don't be daft! This dress is _gorgeous_."

"But… what?" the Doctor was losing sense with her by the minute and he wasn't so sure he like it. "You just called it a giant doily."

"Hmmm," Donna again looked down at it, smoothing out an invisible crease, "it does, doesn't it?"

"Pardon?"

"Lace, it can look like a doily at times when it's stitched wrong."

His mouth agape, the Doctor just gave up on the nonsense conversation and called it a loss by shoving his hands into his pockets. He then smiled gently at her and leant a little towards her and she noticed he had styled his hair differently. "It looks lovely, wouldn't have pictured it any other way, and I should know, I'm a genius me."

Donna gave him a small smile. "I do love it."

"And you don't look like a doily or a toilet roll covering. I once went to a ball and met a lovely girl called Kaywinnit Lee Frye. Her dress was lovely, but…"

Donna nodded in agreement. "Too much lace."

"And frills."

"White, I imagine also."

The Doctor pulled a little face and he tipped his head a little. "Hmm, no, it was sort of pink… but she looked beautiful, found her little niche among the engineers and such after finding out that not all of the well bred women are the most enchanting of creatures."

Donna could only blink at him, a single auburn eyebrow raised at his rambling. "What merry havoc did you create?"

He had the decency to look slightly insulted at such an accusation that he would ever create a scene at a lavish ball. "It wasn't my fault this time. The Captain of her ship punched a well to do gentleman and … well, the sword fight was interesting…" He looked at Donna with that smile, charming, quirky and boyish all at the same time, but with hints of an inner darkness that even he feared to tread alone with.

"Anyway, moral of the story: Even the most … uh… interesting of dresses can look stunning on the right person."

"Uh huh, still doesn't prevent one from looking like a tit in public though." Donna replied flatly, not looking like she was going to be swayed.

The Doctor's shoulders dropped a little at the blunt description, but only a little. "Not convincing you much, am I?"

She looked like she was regretting bringing up the lace/doily issue with the fashionably-challenged alien. "Oh, don't get me wrong, I love it. One of the best birthday presents I've ever gotten on such short notice." The man across the console beamed at her in happiness at his gift to her. "It's just gonna look a bit daft without matching shoes."

He looked at her for a moment or two, liking how the simple blue garment fitted her figure but left space for the imagination to meander unleashed, she wasn't much of a woman who was comfortable in showing her self in public. The Wasp incident was different, and she seemed to generally love the dress the TARDIS had given her, not that she didn't love this one, but unless her heart was in it fully it wasn't much of a well thought out gift.

"Donna, you can change the dress, I don't mind."

"That's not the point…"

"Honestly, it doesn't bother me."

Donna considered it before him, she did love how it fitted like it was made for only her, and knowing the Doctor it was, it was also a shade of blue she'd never laid eyes on, almost sky blue, but with a hint of the colour one would see with an oncoming storm that was an hour away. The material was liquid silk against her skin but lighter than air. It wasn't Lace Central like she was making it out to be, just a bit on the soft neck v-line and the bottom hemming. No, she loved it; lace and all.

The Doctor had watched the movement of emotions flicker across Donna's face until it settled on a look he was more than familiar with.

"You know what?" she said defiantly. "Screw it, I look fabulous, and I ain't about to listen to some strange lot that I look fit only for the lavatory display."

And with her head held high Donna Noble stepped out of the TARDIS with her new birthday dress, her battered trainers and in her wake followed a bemused Time Lord.

"Reverse physiology," the Doctor mused to himself happily, "works every time."

"Not on your life, Spaceman," came the mock-haughtily reply from outside the TARDIS.

******

Please R&R


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